


Of Wizardry and Highschool woes

by TheRedPoet



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedPoet/pseuds/TheRedPoet
Summary: Molly tries to deal being stuck between two worlds. It's not always easy.
Relationships: Molly Carpenter & Harry Dresden
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	Of Wizardry and Highschool woes

I’d always liked school when I was a kid. Learning, hanging out with the other kids, even the teachers. I’d been into all of it, honestly. Mom and dad had always been proud of their little goody-two-shoes and praised my grades (If they were B’s) and for A’s we’d gone to McDonalds (or sushi once I’d realised just how awesome that stuff was). 

Then puberty reared its ugly head, which changed things a little, but not a lot. Boys began to be weirdly interesting on top of just being loud and irritating, but it wasn’t like that took up all of my time and focus. So, I experimented with clothes and different cliques in school, but the grades didn’t really slip. Then one specific person caught my eye, and that was more… Uh- Intense? I mean, obsessive if I’m supposed to be embarrassingly honest. Even then, I could only spend so much thinking about Harry Dresden.

The magic was what really, truly changed things, I think. I’m sure math is awesome when you know enough of it to do engineering or do stuff at NASA with it, but when you start comparing it to magic, can you really blame me if I stopped caring about the value of X?

Then there’s everyone else… I mean, I get it. I just vanished for months and months, and returned all changed. Fair to guess I might’ve had a psychotic break, or got pregnant and had an abortion, or joined a cult. Still whispering and spreading rumours about it several months later? Snickering behind my back? Not okay. Eventually, that’s going to get a reaction out of someone. Like, maybe, a punch to the face.

Which is how I ended up in detention at 3:20 on a Friday afternoon with a bunch of my fellow delinquents. Mike Kowalski was sitting in another corner an ice-pack pressed to his black eye. I guess I should’ve been glad he’d been too proud to admit he got knocked on his ass by a girl or I would’ve been looking at something worse than detention. Behind me and to my right, there was Sophie. We’d gone to the same class together since pretty much forever, but we’d never been all that close. She was the kind of girl you’d happily talk to in class, or at lunch, but that was about it. The teachers usually talked about her emotional intelligence, which was teacher-speak for “Nice, but a bit dim”. Another row back sat Ashley, who was pretty and skinny, dark-haired. We’d gone to the same church since we were, and my dad had helped her dad with some addition to their house. We’d even been friends for a year or two, before she’d decided to be a total bitch. Never in front of the teachers or adults, of course, but the moment they were gone, out came the knives. The verbal kind. Just to be clear.

What I’m getting at is that the odds of a breakfast club situation didn’t seem particularly promising.

Harry had told me that the life of the wizard wasn’t all that glorious, but I’d held out hope. I probably should’ve known better.

The clock ticked on over by the door, mocking me every time it dragged my gaze over towards the freedom beyond the door along with the reminder that only a few minutes had passed. I swear, there’s some sort of chronomancy going on in schools and one of these days I’m going to figure out how they do.

I was supposed to be reading about history, but I’d long since lost track of just what Washington was up to besides kicking the butts of the British, and I’d spent the last fifteen minutes doodling a chibi-version of Harry in my notebook. His cutesy, exaggerated bobble-head dotted with a five o’clock shadow, and I’d used my marker pen to draw a flame at the top of his staff.

“What’re you drawing, Molly?”

I winced and slammed the book shut. Looking up, I saw Sophie standing by my desk, eyes intent on my notebook. I glanced over towards Mrs Chance’s desk and found her lost in a stack of papers she was grading. No rescue inbound there.

“Nothing,” I said, keeping my voice quiet.

Sophie smiled and nodded. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry about him. I was just curious.”

Damn it. “Him?”

“You know, that guy. The tall guy with the coat who picks you up sometimes. You never talked about him before. Did you meet him when you were… you know, away?”

I might’ve panicked just a little. Every instinct told me to deny, deny, deny, and I was about to do that when something that sounded a lot like dad’s voice came to the forefront, lecturing about the importance of honesty… within limits.

So I didn’t lie. Not exactly.

“He’s a friend of the family.” Well, the half of the family that wasn’t mom.

Sophie nodded along as if that made perfect sense. “That’s nice.”

I shrugged, noncommittally, and prayed this would be the end of the conversation.

“Why is he picking you up?”

Crap. Dim she might be, but she had a nose for gossip.

“Uh-” I felt my cheeks heat up, which wasn’t helping things at all, and scrambled for something like an answer. “He’s teaching me stuff. Since I missed some time at school, you know.”

“Oh. Okay.” Sophie’s eyes widened a little and her mouth formed an o-shape as if I’d revealed some wonky mathematical formula to her that now made perfect sense.

I tried for a smile and flipped open my notebook, carefully going past the page I’d doodle chibi-Harry one, and more importantly, the pages before that where I’d written our names out inside of a heart like some stupid thirteen-year-old.

“What is he teaching-?”

There was a scraping of a chair along the floor, and Mrs Chance got out of her chair. She blinked upon seeing Sophie out of her chair and re-arranged some of her greying brown curls behind her ear in a nervous gesture.

“Sophie, dear. There’s just another half an hour left before we’re done here, so would you please return to your seat.”

Sophie was probably the only student in the school to actually be cowed by Mrs Chance, and she hurried back to her seat, eyes downcast.

Mrs Chance cleared her throat and most of the students looked up from their “work” and more or less gave her their attention. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Mrs Chance said, trying to add a touch of steel to her voice that didn’t work out very well. “Remember the rules.”

Nobody answered, but apparently their silence was taken as agreement, and Mrs Chance hurried off. The door hadn’t even closed when Sophie looked over to me again.

“What subject is he teaching you?” She tried to keep her voice low, but given the choice between homework and gossip, several of the other students chose gossip.

“Art,” I blurted, which I guess was technically true.

“Oh,” Sophie said, smile brightening. “That’s cool. I never knew you liked art. I thought you picked Italian or something for your elective.”

I winced. It had been latin, but that hardly mattered.

“Who’s teaching her what?”

Ashley looked up from her English homework and her dark eyes locked on me.

“That tall guy - the one with the coat. What’s his name, again?”

“Dresden,” Ashley supplied and now her interest was definitely piqued, and that was never ever a good thing.

Damn it, Sophie. This is why I never invited you to my birthday parties.

“Oh. Yes. He’s giving Molly private art lessons.”

I mean, even I heard just how bad that sounded. Ashley raised an eyebrow.

“Dresden…” she said, her voice saccharine sweet. “Isn’t he that troubled guy who thinks he’s a wizard? I saw him on Larry Fowler.”

“He’s not-” I began to snarl, before I caught myself and zipped my lips shut.

I could feel the tingle of magic all over my skin, condensed around my fingertips and just barely beginning to warp the air if you knew what to look for. I went through the breathing exercises Harry had taught me. In - hold - out. In - hold - out.

Ashley was smiling at me, the sort of smile that had most of the teachers fooled that she was having a hard time, but that deep down, she had a heart of gold. I knew better. She was waiting, giving me plenty of rope to hang myself with.

“He’s not crazy.”

She eyed me. “So he’s a wizard?”

I pressed my lips together. In - hold - out.

Ever since I’d… misused the magic I’d been gifted with, controlling my emotions had been difficult. Like, getting a free-flowing sentence out of Shatner, difficult.

“What’s it to you?” I snapped.

Ashley shrugged, the very picture of innocence. “Just looking out for you. I mean, people might talk, and we don’t want that, do we? So… Is he a wizard?”

I glared at her. It was one of those situations you’d figure out a great comeback for, ten hours too late, when you were in bed or in the shower. Right then, not so much.

“That’s what it says in the phone book,” I finally said.

For a moment she just looked at me. Maybe because nobody - except ancient people like Harry - actually used phone books anymore now that they could just use the internet.

Sophie cast a distressed look from me to Ashley, seeming to finally realise what she’d done.

“Art… Sure.” Ashley watched me for a few moments and smiled. “Does he paint you like one of his french girls, eh?”

“Ashley!” Sophie exclaimed, sounding aghast.

I clenched my hands into fists and spoke through gritted teeth. “That’s not-”

“Hey, I don’t blame you,” Ashley continued, easily cutting across me. “He’s not that bad to look at if you like older guys. Is he at least a good fuck?”

That was the moment Mrs Chance returned. Because of course it was. It was probably a good thing, in the end, because I was sorely tempted to tell Ashley one hell of a story about just how good he was, just to see the look on her. I’d had enough frustrations lately that I had more than enough imagination to get really, really detailed. 

Mrs Chance cast me an upgraded version of the concerned look she’d given me ever since my “episode” and I really, really didn’t need any of this right now. I had more than enough with Harry working me hard through the nights - and not in the way I wanted - and trying to co-exist with mom without either of us murdering each other. I didn’t need petty little nobodies like Ashley, who had no idea what was going on out there, adding to the mess.

It would be so easy to fix it. To fix her. Just a nudge and she’d mind her own damn business. Maybe try to help people. Be who she pretended to be. All I needed was-

I realised that I’d been staring at her and that she was beginning to look a little creeped out. I realised that I’d begun to gather power and that the light overhead was flickering like we were in a bad horror movie.

I squeezed my eyes closed and focused on my breathing. In. Hold. Out.

“Is everything alright, Molly?” Mrs Chance asked.

I looked up at her. She was standing several feet away. I could feel her worry for me and her worry of me. Just like I could feel Sophie’s discomfort and guilt about starting this whole mess and Ashley’s delight at the chaos she was causing.

“She’s fine,” Ashley said. “Aren’t you, Molly?”

“Yes,” I said, through gritted teeth. “I’m just fine.”

Anything to get them to go. To leave me alone. If I could just sit down and get some peace and quiet, I could get things back in order, and then maybe I’d be okay for when Harry picked me up. I refused to let him see me all messed up like this. He had enough on his plate.

“She’s just looking forward to going to see her boyfriend.”

“He’s not my-” I realised I was shouting and cut myself off. In. Hold. Out. I drew ten, slow and measured breaths before I continued. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Mrs Chance said. “I’m sure we can leave Molly and her lovelife for her to deal with. Come on, now. Only fifteen minutes to go.”

Fifteen minutes. I latched onto the words. I only needed to last another fifteen minutes. Then I could sneak into the bathroom, splash some water on my face, and just sit there in the darkness until things went quiet.

I spent those fifteen minutes staring holes into my notebook. At one point, the paper literally began to smoke. Second by second, minute by minute, I waited. I could see Ashley smirking at me whenever I was stupid enough to look over there, and it just made things worse.

I was only just getting everything to quiet down when that energy that always fills a group of students as the end of a lesson draws near washed over me.

“I think we can call it a day here. Good job, everyone. Have a nice weekend.”

Chairs scrapped and conversations began. Plans for parties, activities, secret rendezvous’. Normal, highschool stuff. It was all so far behind me I could barely even picture myself as a part of it and I hadn’t even finished my last semester.

“Miss Carpenter?” Mrs Chance said. “Would you stay behind for a while?”

Shit.

I kept my eyes locked on the little scorch mark on my notebook as the others filed out. Maybe if I was lucky, Mrs Chance would realise she had a meeting or that she wanted coffee, and I wouldn’t have to talk to her… But of course not.

Mrs Chance pulled a chair out and sat down opposite me, waiting for the rest of the students to leave, and for the door to close.

“Almost weekend now,” she said.

I looked up at her for a moment. What was I supposed to do with that? Did she expect me to break down and start crying like this was Good Will Hunting on fast-forward?

“Yeah.”

“Any plans?”

I sighed. “I’ve got… lessons. With Harry.”

“Ah. Mr Dresden, was it? The tall man. Thirty-three or so?”

There was a not-so-subtle weight on the mention of his age. “Yes.”

“Ah,” she smiled kindly, like this was just gossip between us girls, and not an interrogation. “How do you know Mr Dresden?”

“He’s my dad’s friend.”

“Ah, yes. Of course, of course.” She bit the inside of her cheek for a moment as she thought. “Do you want me to give you any material… He might find it useful, for the lessons you’ll be having.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But we’re not really following the school curriculum.”

Mrs Chance wasn’t the most self-assured of all my teachers, but she wasn’t stupid, either. She seemed to realise I wasn’t Sophie and that she couldn’t make me slip up. She sighed.

“You’re 18, Molly. I can’t tell you what to do and what not to do. Not with this, anyways. Just be careful and take care of yourself.”

“I’m not… I mean, we’re not.” I shook my head. “I’m not sleeping with him or anything.”

She gave me a long look. I could tell she didn’t believe me.

“Alright. If you need to talk you know where my office is.”

I waited for a moment to see if she wanted to say something else… She didn’t. I began to pack my stuff and I’d gone all the way to the classroom door when Mrs Chance spoke up again.

“What is he teaching you?”

I threw her a look over my shoulder and managed to smile just a little. “Magic.”

***

Harry waited for me with the Blue Beetle in the parking lot, standing beside it to stretch out his long legs. He smiled at me when he saw me and I was about to smile back before I saw Ashley was hanging around with a few of her friends, watching me.

I marched straight on to Harry. He watched me come, giving me a once-over and frowning. “You alright, kid?”

Not when you call me kid, Harry. I’m never alright when you call me that.

“Just a long, crappy day.”

Harry nodded. “I’ve had those. So… Are you alright?”

I winced. I might be able to bullshit Mrs Chance, but Harry was another story.

“Just highschool stuff.”

“Ah,” Harry said, as though that explained everything. “Anyone giving you a hard time?”

I looked down at my feet. What kind of wizard was I if I couldn’t deal with High School?

Harry looked from me and to Ashley and her group. I could hear them sniggering from all the way over where we were standing. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel his attention on me. He didn’t push, exactly, but I knew he wanted some kind of answer.

“Ashley,” I said. “It’s nothing. She’s just a petty bitch.”

Dresden snorted. “Molly Carpenter. What would your mother say if she heard you use that kind of language?”

I couldn’t help but to smile a little, despite everything. “That I probably learned it from that scruffy heathen of a wizard dad kept insisting we should invite for Sunday lunch?”

“Probably,” he agreed. “I’m hungry. McDonalds?”

I swallowed thickly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

We went to a nearby drive-through and had ourselves the unhealthiest calories known to man. It was awesome.

“Do you want to talk about what happened at school today?” Harry asked. “If you don’t, we can move over to magic.”

I winced. I definitely didn’t want to talk about Ashley suggesting I was carrying on some gross tryst with Harry. There was one thing, though.

“How long did it take for you before it went away? The impulses to do… bad things?”

He watched me and my stomach sank further and further. Was it just me? Had he never ever felt anything like what I’d felt? Was I just broken like the wardens had said? Some kind of monster that had to be put down before it was too late, before-

Harry’s hand settled on my shoulder and I hadn’t realised until that moment that I’d damn near been hyperventilating.

“Look at me,” Harry said, voice soft.

I did. He looked tired, but there was a gentle smile there, too. I liked to think that he smiled that way just for me, which was probably stupid, but I did.

“It took years,” Harry said. “It never goes away entirely. Maybe that’s black magic or maybe that’s just people - just magic. I don’t know. Your magic is different to mine, Molly, just like you’re different from me. I’m not going to pretend I get how it works, because I don’t. You’ll have to tell me.”

I nodded, blinking away tears. “Nobody talks to me. They look at me like I’m crazy… and I could change it. I could stop them. I know it’s wrong, but sometimes I don’t care.”

“Of course you care. We wouldn’t be talking if you didn’t.”

I stared down at my lap and focused hard on breathing for a while. Anything else and I knew I’d start bawling my eyes out like a stupid kid. Finally, I managed to say: “Yeah… Yeah, I guess. I’ll try.”

“Do or do not,” Harry said in his Yoda voice.

“There is no try,” I chimed in.

He smiled and I couldn’t help to answer it. I looked up at him and my heart began to beat faster. I quickly looked away again, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“Would it be bad if I just used a little glamour or something on her?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Would that be a responsible use of your power?”

“No,” I mumbled.

“No,” he echoed and his expression turned a bit wry. “Besides, I already hexed her phone.”

I leaned back in the seat and stretched my legs out as far the tiny car would allow, grinning like an idiot. I went in for a hug and Harry hesitated until the last moment to accept it. He’d been getting less scared of it, but he still tried to keep a distance from us. Probably not a bad idea, considering how I’d started off my apprenticeship with him… Or the way the old lady who walked past the car looked at us. My heart sped up and warmth spread through my chest as I clung on tight. Things were getting better. They weren’t good, not yet, but if I kept at it, they might be. Harry broke the hug off and as much as I wanted to, I didn’t try to draw it out.

Harry set the key in the ignition and cast me a sideways glance. “Are you ready for your lesson now?”

“I think so.”

“Would coffee and a donut help?”

I grinned. “Definitely.”


End file.
